Have a nice one, Dean
by JosieStyle
Summary: They wanted to get a burger but something was very wrong in thier favorite Diner. DeanWhump. ProtectiveSam and HelpfullBobby. Bad summary but all goods are inside. Have fun!
1. Chapter 1

_Plot: Make a quick stop to grab a damn burger went a little different than expected. DeanWhump_

_I do not own Supernatural nor the characters, I only own the DVD boxes I've bought in the shop :)_

**Have fun! (this is trancelated from my dutch one: "Dean's Trip")**

**X**

**Josie**

xXx

"Sammy!" Dean yelled startled when he saw his younger brother suddenly fly passed him and heard his body came to rest against the wall. It sounded hard and fast. Sam forcibly huffed out al of his air from his lungs and struggled to refill them again. Gasping and coughing, he fell unconscious and slummed down onto to the dirty floor.

Dean wanted nothing more than to go to his younger brother to see if he was okay. But his instincts thould him otherwise.

"Sammy's okay, Dean. If I were you I'd start worrying about what that demon is going to do with me."

A grinning waitress slowly walked forwards into the kitchen from the abandoned Dinner. The cook was lying death on the floor and next to Dean there lied another man. Death. Brazen smells of blood and the smell of rotten eggs went up to Dean's nostrils. He tightened his jaw as he realized that this woman was also already dead, given the bloody stab wound in her midriff. This was only the demon that did the walking and the talking.

Dean wasn't unarmed. But the rifle with only one rock salt bullet was lying a few meters away from him. And he knew this type of _'demon thinking'_ all too well. They were fast and bold. The only thing that could stop this black eyed suckers were to shoot them, Ruby knife them, or send them back to hell. Right now Dean wanted to slit her throat for what she had done to his brother. He was so not in the mood for a fight. He only came in for a burger. But at the sight of this shit Dean knew that he had put an end to this before more people getting hurt.

The demon was grinning at the older Winchester. With her feminine body and her charming way to take her slowly steps on her high heels, it made Dean uneasy. So he took a hesitant step back and bent his knees a little to get ready for an unexpected assault from this demon.

"Dean Dean Dean. The demon hunter where everyone is talking about, lately. You are actually quite famous. Do you know? It is an honor to meet you, at last," said the possessed, and already dead, waitress.

Dean straightened equally. His smile was superficial, but convincing. "Really? I didn't know you had such a good taste. "

Behind him he heard his younger brother moan in pain. Dean's smile vanished instantly.

'Enough chat, don't you think? " Dean made a dive to the ground like a wild tiger with his arms spread. He landed on his stomach with his gun already pointed at her head. The waitress opened her mouth in 'aw' about how fast the demon hunter actually was.

"That was a professional move. I'm impressed, Dean," agreed the demon again. She laughed there that Dean could count it as a cremated laugh. She meant it.

"Yes, I'm that good," he replied again briefly with a charming smile. Just before he wanted to to shoot the gun, it was his turn to be surprised by her speed. She ducked behind the counter and out of reflex Dean shot the rocksalt shell against the varnished wood. Growling he realized that that was the last bullet. _Shit shit shit!_ The demon laughed.

"Too bad, Dean. You were so close." The smile was gone. He cursed at himself for this stupid fail.

"Damn it! Now, that sucks."

And he held his own gun against his head to show his mistake while imitating a shooting sound.

"Do not cry Dean. You'll still have a chance to make it right." The waitress came from behind the counter and stepped over the dead man back to Dean. Her triumphant attitude made Dean swore again.

xXx

Dean knew that if she could defeat Sam in one wave that easy, she will be difficult to kill. Although, it was just some black eyed demon he and Sam fought more than they could count.

The demon stood in front of him and Dean let her touch his hair and face. Even if he wanted to kill her badly, he smiled at her. Not letting himself from showing his anger to her. It only made her more proud.

"What are you doing, Goldilocks? Wanna dance or something?"

Dean knew this wasn't really one of his best commentaries. But he needed time to figure out how to get some salt or iron. His eyes darted from the room. He saw no iron, nor one of those salt pots they usually had on every dinner-table. Dean shifted his weight on the ground. His eyes suddenly fell onto the knife who was lying onto the ground were Sam had dropped it when he was hurled through the air. He could grab it in no time. But will the demon fall for the same trick? With a glance he calculated his chances. There was no more time for anything else. The demon was right in front of Dean's and grabbed his neck. Dean succeeded to hit her hands away and took another step away from her. His eyes switched back to the knife. Then back to the demon. Dean could smell the blood. He sighed in disgust for the terrible death of this young waitress. _Why her? Why now?_

"What do you want, anyway? Our heads on a stick? Like all your friends want? Is that it? Hmm" he asked. There was a faint sign of anger in his face. His deep frown gave it away.

"Oh, Dean. Don't be mad at me. I'm just following orders." Her voice sounded a little bored at some point. Unceremoniously she grabbed the collar of his leather coat and drew Dean vigorously close to her face. Dean was surprised by her strong grip. With a smile on the demons face she punched her lips against the hunters and kissed him. At first it was an eager kissing motion. Then she drew out her tongue. She was all for it. And Dean sat between doubt and disgust. But fast afterwards he knew it was definitely 'disgust' what he was feeling when she was also started to bite in his lower lip; and grinned. Blood trickled into his mouth while he growled angrily. With his hands he clenched his fists. With his strong arm he hit her against her jaw. A smacking sound put an end to the kiss. And Dean wiped his mouth, trying to spit out her saliva and his blood.

"Take that, you sick son of a bitch. What was that all about?" The demon smiled devilish.

"Don't tell me you didn't like it."

The blood from Dean's lip was still on hers. When Dean thought it was time to put an end to this he smacked his bullet-less gun to her face, fast and unexpected. While she repelled him angry with both hands, Dean ran all stumbling towards the knife. Then he felt something thrown against his back. A growl escaped from his bloody lips and he fell flat on his belly through the sudden weight pressed on his back. It was the wooden table. The shock was not enough for Dean to stop him from his goal and squirmed away from under the heavy table and finally grabbed the knife. Then he felt two strong hands grabbing around his ankle. With a jerk Dean was pulled back, where he had been standing at first, making out with a horny demon. Luckily he had taken a hold on the knife in time. But this demon was stronger than she looked. Squirming and spuddle around like a trapped rat Dean made his way back to the demon. This time to end her. With his good sense of direction, he crossed the demon right between her ribs with the knife and it gave him time to get out of her strong hold. The demon screamed briefly with a shrill voice. Grabbed her chest and cursed something with a low grunt. It was not enough to kill her. But it gave Dean a moment.

"Dean! You make me very angry, now!" cried the demonic waitress. Her eyes turned black for a brief moment.

For a moment Dean searched for a safer place, but again he felt her strong hands. This time she grabbed his spawn tightly and bit into it like a mad animal. Dean closed his eyes from the sudden pain and gasped for breath. His whole body tensed as the demon pulled him closer. It wasn't difficult for the demon to turn Dean on his back and take the knife from him. He did his best to kick her in the face with both feet and he even made an attempt to clasp her throat but the demon had all the power over him. She grabbed the knife firmly and looked triumphantly at the sharp weapon where her own demonic blood was still dripping of from it. Then she grabbed the hunter by his throat and pulled him close to her.

"S'nofa'bitch… Let go'fme!" Dean tried. His body tense and rigid. His eyes wandered to his lifeless brother, a few steps away from him. Why wasn't Sam awake yet?

"Again, Dean. Don't mind about your brother. And worry about yourself for ones. Because I have something special for you." she said. Her voice cold as she tore open his shirt, first. Dean gasped for breath and still swung around with his arms and legs to free himself from her. But with her grip on his windpipe he grew weaker and weaker. Although, his deep green eyes were still bright enough to stare angry to her black ones. She looked at him. And gave him a nasty lick on his bare chest. Then she laughed.

"Yugh," gasped Dean in disgust. His eyes close for a moment. Dark dots were blinding him from the lack of air. And he felt so weak. The cold hands of the demon went tighter around his neck and Dean was afraid to pass out.

And even then, Dean had managed to give her a kick in her stomach, but unfortunately to no avail. Without batting an eye she stuck the knife with the sharp point in his stomach and turned it around once. Insofar Dean still could accomplished a scream with his empty lungs, and cried out in pain. Eyes squeezed shut and Dean finally dropped down onto the filthy floor of the bloody Dinner Café. Loosing al his strength and awareness. The last thing he heard was a whispering voice of the demon.

_"Have a nice one, Dean."_

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It didn't take long for Dean to feel something again. Although he couldn't open his eyes anymore. He felt the ground melting away from under his body. He was floating. And then again. He was not.

Limp and helpless Dean remained lying. He felt the cold hands around his throat finally disappear. And could vaguely hear a laughing voice disappear. With closed eyes he heard rattle on the tiles. Glass crackled under her soles. The demon laughed again, followed by a resounding scream. Dean, who was still semi-conscious listened to it. He knew what was happening. The demon left the dead body. In the sudden silence Dean heard a thud. The waitress dropped dead on the ground. Beside him. Panting Dean opened his eyes a moment. But everything was black. A terrible pain in his stomach made Dean closed his eyes again. His heart pounded in his throat and his head felt empty. Something burned in the back of his throat. His body struggled to breathe again. And when he failed at the attempt to take a deep inhale he passed out completely.

xXx

"Dean? Can you hear me? Dean you're awake, thank God, man!" cried the familiar voice of his younger brother in relief. Some feeling came back into his body, slowly. He felt the oppressive cold ground beneath him. When Dean blinked against the dark everything changed into weird gray shapes. Slowly but surely he recognized the face of Sam.

"S'mmy ..." Dean whispered softly. He should not have done that. A severe pang drove through his whole body. A hand suddenly pressed on his shoulder.

"Hey, Whoa whoa whoa. Calm down, Dean. You have a big wound in your abdomen. I thought you were death a minute ago. What happened?" asked Sam. His anxious gaze darted from Dean to the space around him. Dean also made an effort to look around. The smells were terrible. He was still in the Diner. With one hand he searched the place where his pain came from. He bumped against Sam's hand. And his younger brother grabbed him soothingly.

"Careful, man. You don't wanna touch that. It's deep. But you're doing okay. I'm with you. But, Dean... I hate to say It. But I think I'm calling an ambulance. Your blood pressure is far too high." When he tried to breathe slowly his neck burned in pain. And when Dean wanted to nod his eyes closed almost automatically from exhaustion. But before he realized what had happened, and he heard Sam find his phone, Dean was startled awake.

"N-no," he cracked his weak voice. His eyes darted right off from the pain. But his hand squeezed Sam's hands as resistance. Sam sighed. Rather shocked at this reaction. What was he doing? Dean's sudden opposition could be some kind of infinite frustration from the fear of the hospital. But then again. Dean never acted this anxious. Sam felt a stone drop in his stomach from concern.

"Dean, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Tsk ... stupid of me... Of course you have pain," Sam muttered softly. Dean sighed and resisted equally. His gurgling breathing noise made Sam even more concerned. He looked into his big brother watery eyes.

'Demon Blood, Sam …" he said with all his strength. It was weak and he barely understood himself. But Sam had received it loud and clear. Dean moaned his most difficult pain away and gasped as he felt a hand under his neck. Sam held his head slightly up so Dean could look at him. His big brother looked shocked at him. "Demonblood, hah? Damned," muttered Sam. Dean gave him a nod and gasped in pain. His neck was swollen and sore from the demon's grasp.

"My God, Dean. I'm sorry." Dean blinked his eyes. The dark haze came back. And again his head was slowly deposited on the ground.

"It's okay, Dean. Calm down. I'm with you. We will solve this, man. Keep on breathing. I will leave your head on the ground, okay?" Dean nodded again softly because he couldn't speak. His body relaxed for a moment. But it did a number on his consciousness and he faded away shortly after that.

Dean knew what was going on with him. He was poisoned.

He felt the demonblood burn through his veins. He was so worked up. His pulse was palpable accelerated. Pain shoots chased throughout his body. It did something to him. He felt it. He felt fear. He felt hatred. It washed over him more and more with each heartbeat. And the worst part was that he could not stand up for this and fight this thing. It was in his own body. It scared him.

Dean was startled awake by a pain shot and saw Sam still crouched beside his side. He was still in the Diner. He hadn't been gone out long. Dean sighed. By now his brother were pressing his large hands on his abdomen wound to stop the bleeding.

"We need to go to Bobby, Dean. It is only fifteen minutes from here, "said Sam. He watched his older brother with concern. Thinking that Dean wasn't up for traveling, yet. They needed help.

In the meantime Dean felt some relieve in him. They were on their way through bobby's. They were just going to go to grab a bite.

"No. I call Bobby first to come to us. He has a bus. That is better for you wound. Dean? Dean! Everything is okay, man?" Sam's worried face watched him closely. There were tears in his eyes, but he didn't cry. Meanwhile Sam had already found his phone. Groaning by the strange feeling in his body, Dean still manages to give him a strong nod.

The hand which was pressed on his stomach gently rubbed over his unwounded skin surface. It was a soft soothing motion from Sam to let Dean know that he was there for him.

Dean knew. And he knew that if he wouldn't say anything about it, that it was too _chickflick_ stuff, Sam was getting even more worried for him. So he opened his mouth. But the only thing that was out was: "_Bitch."_ Sam looked surprised at him from the search work on his mobile phone and laughed.

"Glad you still in there somewhere _Jerk_." With one hand he rubbed Dean's shoulder as he pressed the phone to his ear.

Dean took a deep breath. Yet another twinge overpowered his body and it stiffened Dean equally. With his hands he hit flat against the dirty floor to respond to it and bit his lip to keep his scream inside. He lost consciousness again.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

When Dean felt two hands under his neck and lower back, he was startled awake again. With confusion he blinked up at two shadows who were standing over him. Dean tried to talk but all he could do was moan in discomfort. His body felt sore, stiff and cold from lying in the same position for that long. He suddenly felt another hand who was apparently still pressing on to his stomach wound. That means he was still bleeding. He grunted at that thought.

"Dean. Stop fussing around and let us help." He heard the old hunter say. And Dean knew that grumpy old voice.

For a moment Dean felt a little better. It was Bobby after all. He is going to save him. A small smile appeared on his pale face. At least he thought he was smiling at him. His face felt weird. But when he watched Bobby frown at him he started wondering _why_.

"It's me, you dumb ass. Stop looking at me like that."

Bobby and Sam were bending over him and they probably wanted to carry him out of the diner. But for some reason it made him very uneasy. Hell, it made him mad! Hot blood was pumping through his veins, fast. Some sounds tuned out and the only thing Dean could hear was Sam's voice.

"Bobby, he might be tripping from the demon blood."

"T'Hell…I'm," Dean blurred out with a hoarse voice. With some effort he pushed himself op from the cold ground. Four hands hold him tight when Dean's strength disappeared fast. He was so weak and sore. But also very angry at them for not believing him when he said he was not tripping.

"Easy, son. You only make it worse. Sam?"

"Yeah, I got him. On three?"

"Yup. Works for me. One. Two. Three."

Dean was trying to resist the strong hands by hitting them away from his painfull body. He felt so weird. He just hated those hands. So he fought against it! "Leme'go!" Even if he wasn't sure whether this was a dream or not, he wanted to be left alone!

"No touching!" He heard himself yell. A severe pain shoot through his whole body and he cramped down, shoulders quivering in the proces. The hands were back and didn't stop holding him, this time.

"That's it, Dean. We're going."

"Don't," Dean muttered tense. He heard himself say that, and blinked his eyes questioningly. _Why did he say that?_

That was when the world started to tilted. His eyes grew wide in confusion. Some of his bearings were coming back and he felt himself sitting on the cold flour. Held up by four strong hands. His whole body was like jelly. He couldn't move. And man, he was scarred! Bobby and Sam must have seen that because they were calling his name a couple of times with soothing voices.

"W-why," he heard himself ask his younger brother.

"It's okay, Dean. You're not yourself."

A hand touched his face, gently. The world went quiet again. Dean couldn't hear anything. Only his own hearth beat whom was way too fast. He felt warm. So warm. But he hated it! He let out another grunt in discomfort.

"You aren't Sam. And that isn't Bobby!"

"Say no more, boy. It's okay, "growled a rough but warm voice. It was Bobby's voice. Even if his face seemed to melt, as Dean saw it happened, into the face of Azazel. Azazel grinned and blinked at him with his pale yellow eyes.

"Come on, Sleepyhead. Now you have the only chance to shoot me, and there you are, not moving a muscle. Are you to scared?" _Dean frowned. Shoot? But they had already done that. He had shot him! Or ... hasn't he?_

"I already did ... you son of a bitch! " Dean cried out. He grabbed the colt, which he had in his hand the whole time, apparently, and pulled the trigger on. A bullet shot through the head of Azazel. But nothing happened. Instead, he continued to look at him. Concerned.

Dean frowned again.

"What did he say?" Sam asked suddenly. His eyes looking suspiciously at Dean's emtpy hands as if he was pointing a gun on them. And he was glad he didn't had a real one.

**TBC**

* * *

**AN: This was a short one. But there will be more in the morning:) **

**X**

**josie**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Something was happening to him. This wasn't right. It was some sort of a mind trick or… maybe he was getting crazy.

"Wait a minute…" Dean muttered confused. He heard his brother talking.

"What's happening?"

His big green glassy eyes squinted through the messy Diner. He felt so heavy and sore through his whole body. Dean heard himself moan and then he saw his brother appear in his line of sight.

Sam was squatting next to Azazel. No! It was not Azazel. It couldn't be! He already shot him with the colt. Something in him told him that he was hallucinating. It has to be! "Whoa. I'm nuts, am I?" he heard himself say that to his frowning younger brother.

"It's okay, Dean. Bobby and I are here to save you."

"Well said, Sam. Even if it sounded a little like a girly thing to say."

Dean blinked his eyes again.

The smiling face of Azazel was finally melting again. And it turned out he was Bobby after all. It was Bobby. Not Azazel. Bobby sighed at him.

"What is he doing?" Dean heard his younger brother say. He couldn't see his face with those gray spots circling a front of his eyes.

"Obviously he has a air gun, Sam. I think he just shot me," Bobby said.

Dean felt himself going in some kind of blur. He was feeling exhausted, suddenly. Despite his strong beating heart.

"Where did he go? A-Azazel I mean." Dean didn't know what to believe any more. He saw some crazy stuff in his line of work. But this ate the cake. He was losing it. He already knew that by now, obviously.

Because he was getting pretty damn scared of himself.

"Hey, Dean. Put your air gun down, will ya? Before you shoot yourself with it, son." Bobby's mocking tone worked on Dean's nerves and he looked again at the colt. But he was gone. He now only saw an empty hand. Smeared with his own blood that was spilled from small cuts. Glass. He had forgotten about the glass on the floor. The Diner! Apparently his frightened face was visible because Sam rubbed his hair comfortingly.

"It's okay, Dean. We are with you." Dean looked up at his face. But when he find his younger brothers eyes he heard another voice coming from him. _"I hate you, man. Because of you my whole life is a mess. I blame you for the death of Jess. For all of it! I hope you will die. And rot in Hell, Dean."_

Dean blinked in shock.

"S-Sam! ... W-why do you say that? I'm bleeding here. Look!" stammered Dean startled. He shook his head in disbelief and showed his bleeding cuts with tears in his eyes. Sam's face frowned again, worriedly.

"Sam. Don't bother," Bobby tried. He was getting restless about how long they were in this Diner. They needed to go. Before the police were here, blaming them for the indispensable bloodbath.

"Well… okay. I know it sounded girly. But you really do scare me right now, Dean. We need to get you out of here. But your heart rate is too irregular, at the moment. Maybe we should call an ambulance, Bobby."

"I-I am sorry about Jess, Sammy. B-but I didn't kill her," Dean whimpered. His body began to shiver in pain and confusion. Sam's eyes grew wider at that. But when he wanted to say something back to him Bobby interrupt by putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Sam, We are just gonna go. Dean is poisoned. He is tripping. Who knows what he sees and hears. Let's take him to the panicroom. He can ride it out, over there. Nice and quiet."

Dean felt the warm hands slide under his knees. He was also gripped under his arms. Slowly he was lifted from the floor. A terrible pain shot through Dean's body and he cried out in agony. Through that horrible pain Dean was in some kind of paralytic state and could only hear Sam and Bobby talking while his eyes slowly fluttering close.

"I hear the sirens already. Someone must have seen this drama," Sam said.

"Don't worry about that now, Sam. Help me get Dean in to the truck, the boy is beginning to look worse and worse."

"Of course, Bobby." There was shuffling and crackling of the glass. Bobby growled. "How much does he weigh, anyway? A ton? "

"No idea."

"UuuhHHuuuH ..." Dean groaned. He heard himself doing that.

"Calm down, Dean. Hey ... your leg...? Dean? What has happened to it?"

"What? Where?" Bobby asked. There were some shuffling and crackling noises. Dean felt hands on his calf, again. And he didn't like that!

"Hands off!" he cried automatically. It was as if he had lost control over what he did and said. It was scary! He wanted to look. Too see. But his eyes stayed shut. It stayed dark.

"Come on, Sam. Get your brother out of here. He begins to tremble badly." Dean felt that too. But he could not help it. His body went his own way. The only thing that Dean could do was breathe. He breathed itself. And immediately began to hyperventilate when he realized that.

Immediately he felt two hands rub over his bare chest.

"Dean! Dean, come on! Keep breathing, man."

"Sam! Grab a hold of him. I almost let him drop again, Idjit." When Bobby opened the door a bell rang. Outside Dean heard sirens. The footsteps went faster. Dean was already going into his slow breathing. Slowly he regained the control of his body. His eyes slowly opened. He saw Bobby's face from below. His mouth was stretched under his stubbly beard. "Hold it a moment, Sam. I make the doors open, " said the older hunter. Dean felt he was pushed forward and two arms under his armpits disappeared. Now he was hold by Sam. He hugged him. Dean felt Sam's heart pounding against his chest. Sam's body was tense. He kept pulling him back up as Dean tried to push himself away from him. Unsurprisingly Sam was stronger now.

"Look, Dean. I know you don't like this lovingly hug pose, man. But you have to. You can hit me later." Doors opened from the truck and Dean felt his body collapse by yet another wave of pain. His head bumped into Sam's neck.

"Huuuuuuugggh ..."

"Whoa… Bobby! Help!"

Dean felt his painful body trembling. He couldn't help it. An arm grabbed his waist and he felt he was laid on his back on the floor of the truck. Voices were growing weak. Everything started melting away from him. He felt sore and light like a feather. All of the sudden he felt warmth over him. At first it was nice. Comforting, at some point. But then he felt some weight on him. His stomach started to feel bad. Like someone was eating the flesh of his belly. It burned with pain. And he groaned in discomfort. It was hot in here! Like fire! It was like some flames were burning him away. It was horrific!

And then, his eyes shot open.

Everywhere was on fire! He knew it… Oh god… He is going to die in here. Through the big flames he saw two shadows of men.

"Hello, Sleepyhead. Boy, you don't look so good, the weird voice said. There was some laughter. Dean was so shocked at this that he couldn't say anything. When he tilted his head to look at the two men he saw the blackness of their eyes.

"You're demons," he stuttered weak. His elbows pushed him up a little, from the burning ground.

Two Black Eyed demons were bending over him. Dean felt one coming closer.

"Do you have any idea where you are, Dean? Come on. Let's play a guessing game. And I already know I will win this one!" The long demon laughed. The other, an older with a beard, grinned and pointed to him.

"A burning plane, Dean! What do you think of that! Are you afraid?" With that abrasive laughter, Dean closed his eyes and bit his lip wishing this was a dream. When he opened his eyes he saw that the room, in which he was, was already beginning to blackening from the smoke.

"Fire and airplanes. This is a beauty of an nightmare, Dean. Don't you think?"

Flames raced around him and the two demons were laughing hard while watching his terrified face. Dean suddenly felt the heat proliferate on his bare feet. He was already on fire.

"Help! N-no ... Crash him down! Crash him so I die! It hurts! Please!" Dean cried out and hit his left foot on the ground. Trying to put out the fire. The fire had already burned his stomach. The flames were faster and stronger. Dean yelled and shook his head. Squeezed his eyes shut, while wishing this was a bad dream and he will be awoken soon. Equally, he managed to sit upright and when he opened his eyes again. It was quiet. Anxiously he looked around. Sam and Bobby stared at him shockingly.

Slowly the reality sunk in. For what he knew he was hurt and poisoned back at the Diner. He was taken to the truck. He was okay. He was safe. His heart beat slowed down again. And Dean let out a sigh. Sweat ran down his face. _He was on fire alright. From fever, that is._

"Oh God…" he slurred out in exhaustion. Breathing heavily.

"Dean ... I-I ... " Sam stammered. Dizzily Dean began to falter backwards onto the hard surface. He was so damn tired. Strong hands had caught him in time, and there was something layed down under his head that was a lot more comfortable. Gasping and moaning Dean slumbered in unconsciousness.

**TBC**

* * *

**AN: I like this chapter because I almost read it twice without murmur to myself that it was Junck again;)**

** X**

**josiee**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Please, let it finally be over, Bobby. He looks so bad."

"Calm down, Sam. It just takes some time. The demon blood is still in his system. The only thing we can do is to take care of his wounds. He will be fine. "

A hand pressed to his forehead.

"He still has fever, Bobby."

"I know, Son. But he is been in situations far more worse than that. He'll bounce back."

A hand was stroking tenderly on his forehead. Dean felt the coldness of his younger brother's skin. It could only mean that he was on fire.

"I-it's like his body is trying to fight the demonblood, like a virus," Sam said with a sad tone.

Dean felt bad for him. He wanted to say something so that Sam knew he was okay. But his body was hot and he was feeling very tired. His stomach felt heavy and like he swallowed a rock or something.

"S'mmy ..." said Dean softly. His body trembled again. He did this for two hours in gusts. He was soaked with sweat and was breathing heavily and laboriously. He gently tossed and turned himself on the thin mattress.

"Maybe we should try another saltwater injection to speed up the proses," Sam said after a long moment of silent.

_Hell no!_

Finally his eyes shot open in horror. He saw a big star above his head. White light flickered on and off. In one repeating pattern. Slowly he began to recognize the space. The panic room.

Sam suddenly bent over his face and sighed with relief.

"Dean ... you with us, man? Everything all right?"

Two big glassy green orbs were staring at Sam's face.

"Dean? Come on. Say something. You were quiet for like two hours, straight."

Dean blinked again. He was gonna say something. He wanted to do that the whole time. But now… he couldn't remember what it was, exactly. So he decided to say everything he went through when Sam wasn't there.

"I am fine. Now I am. But back there, in the air… I-I was on fire, man. A plane certainly crashed and I'm dead ... Azazel was concerned when I shot him. And who would want to kiss a corps with garlic taste in her mouth like that? She bit me! That horny sonofabitch…" he blurred out feverish.

Sam frowned at Dean's strange choice of words. He knew full well that his big brother wasn't okay.

What am I saying? ... Sam? ... Sammy? Please, let me stop embarrassing myself in front of everyone." His big unfocused eyes peered through the panic room. A soothing hand pressed him back onto the matrass.

Meanwhile Dean fiercely stared at him for a long time. Breathing shallow and fast. Eyes as big as tennis balls. And the feverish sweat beaded on his forehead like he just came out of the shower.

"It's okay, Dean. You are not dead. Take a deep breathe, man."

'S'mmy? W-what am I saying?... W-what's going on?... Where am I?" Dean moaned suddenly very emotional. Sam and Bobby looked at each other in disbelief. Was this Dean? His cheeks were flushed and red by the high fever. And then, he started to sob.

Unbelievable! Dean was like a six year old. He was so confused and scared. This was definitely not their Dean.

"Sam, watch him. He can't come down from that bed with that wound," Bobby said suspiciously.

He sat at the desk with the first aid kit still on his lap. He had done nothing but monitoring the Winchesters al night. And it got crazier and crazier. _Dean... crying? impossible!_

Dean sobbed again and looked around. Confused and terrified. His eyes were red with tears. Thick black edges colored around his eyes and his skin was now pale again. His freckles were standing more forward and it made him almost cute. But Sam had no time to laugh at his brother's condition. He grabbed Dean's hands when he hit them around to God, who knows what. Sam forcibly let his face and shoulders relax. To his surprise Dean responded to his calm face and calmed down a little.

"Dean," Sam began softly. He looked at his brother with a tender slime on his lips. Bobby straightened his back and leaned back his chair while looking at the brothers. It was almost tenderly. That was a rare sight of the Winchester boy's. So Bobby watched it in _aw. _Because, he was probably the only person who had seen this tender-like side of the strong brotherbond. He could remember the time when they were just kids and he was taking care of them while the brothers were having a hard time dealing with smallpockes and John had dropped him off because he also couldn't deal with it. So he watched them talking to each other. With a warm feeling in his gut.

"You're infected with demon blood. And you're on a trip for like an half a day, by now. But don't worry, brother. Bobby and I were here the whole time. Nobody can hurt you. You are safe here. So stay here and rest up."

"M'kay..."

* * *

**AN: TBC. Only one Chapter left! Stay tunned and review for gods sake! ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

At the word _HURT_ Dean grimaces in pain. With a hissing sound he rubbed his banded stomach and Sam could hear him sigh in frustration. Sweat dripping from his face and another fever attack made his cheeks pick up. Sam felt so bad for him. He bit his lip when Dean started to shiver again.

"Don't say _Hurt_, Sam. That reminds me of being hurt. Hate feeling weak," he muttered softy, sounding like a six year old. Another shudder washed over his shoulders.

"Look, Dean. If you want something for the pain, I understand. Even if it's probably not a good idea with your delirious state and all. We both know that resting is better than…" Sam's words grew quiet when Dean came of the matrass with bewildered eyes.

"Erm… Dean?"

Dean's big green unfocused eyes suddenly looked past Sam and growled angry. Bobby frowned at that.

"Watch it Sam." He straightened his back. Ready to jump right in when Dean decided to make a dive off the matrass. Sam tried to grab his brother in time to push him back down, but Dean was stronger somehow, and downright angry at something. _Or someone_.

"Garlic-chick! Th'Hell. Sam. Look! S-she licked me… and kissed me. Disgusting! And you ..."

Dean did his best to stay upright but swayed dangerously and Sam finally grabbed him by his shivering shoulders. It took some time to meet his eyes with concern.

"…You were gone, Sammy. You were gone!" Sam saw the weird emptiness in his brother's eyes. Like if he wasn't there, anymore. When Dean stared expectantly back at him, Sam took his time to remember what his big brother just said to him. At this point he couldn't follow him. But he did his best. He replied with a sigh. He probably knew were Dean was referring to. And he shook his head.

"Yeah. I remember. When I woke up and saw you lying onto the floor I-I…" Sam broke the eye contact to hide his anxious face. He knew he would only make it worse by showing his angst.

Dean shook his head and growled. "You didn't wake up! It distracted me."

"Dean…" Sam sighed again. His hands could feel his brother's head glowing with fever. "Take a deep breathe, man. You're raving."

Suddenly Dean surprised him with a painful head butt.

"Never do that to me, you moron!" Dean cried out angry. Shockingly Sam let go of his brother to grab his own punched head. Dean immediately fell backwards onto the matrass. His face stiffened in pain and went quiet.

"Jesus, Dean," Sam muttered dazed and blinked his eyes. "That hurt, man. You should take it easy instead of fighting me."

Bobby stood up and rushed himself to Sam who sway a little while processing his brother's handy work. One eye was already closing up.

"You 'kay, Son?" the old hunter asked. When he saw the blue eyelid already started to swell up, he grinned a little. "That will be a shiner in the morning."

"Yeah well. I don't care about that." He let his good eye wander through the lying figure on the matrass. Sam's face paled at the sight. Bobby frowned and followed his gaze.

"What the…" Bobby started but broke off in shock. His brows disappeared under the brim of his cap.

The older Winchester held his stomach with one arm and had folded his other arm over his eyes. They only could see his parted lips, desperately trying to hold back a scream. He was in total misery. It hurt to watch him suffer like that. But when Bobby soothingly touched his leg, Dean kicked his hand away with a foot. Sam instinctively shielded his head, this time.

At least _this_ was a normal reaction from his big brother. Maybe the demon blood started to wear off.

"Get lost," he moaned in pain. His voice came out small.

"Calm down, you Idgit! Before you rip open your stitches." The old hunter really wanted to smack the kid for acting like a dump stubborn ass. But when he touched him again Dean started to fight again. Even when he was a frame of total misery.

Sam finally managed to grab a hold of his brother and pressed his back against the mattress. It took the two of them to get him ly still. Bobby helped by pushing down his flaying legs. Kicking with his feet Dean still did his best to get away from them, again.

"When you're better I smack your head against the wall knocking some sense in 'ya, you pigheaded moron," Bobby said.

Dean yelled ones in anger. He wasn't planning to stop freeing himself from them.

Until he suddenly groaned before he went slack. His eyes fluttered closed. And he let out another grunt while passing out completely. Sam felt his own heart skip a beat. His boneless body even stopped shivering and Sam let go of him in total fear.

'Balls…" Bobby swore. He rushed of the matrass and took the first aid kit from his desk. The stitches on Dean's stomach must have popped. Because the bandage around it began to soak in the crimson liquid, fast.

"He shouldn't be moving around anymore, with that wound. He already lost enough, Sam. He needs some rest. Maybe we should tie him down." Sam nodded. His eye was darkened from sadness. One eye was fully shut by now. Dean had hit him good. And he saw some stars flying around in his head. But the adrenaline kept him clear.

He helped Bobby taking care of the wound, while his gaze still landed on Dean's pale and unconscious face. "Hold on, Dean. It's okay, big brother."

xXx

Hours later Dean opened his eyes again. And when he did he immediately felt his head pounding bad. The flickering light above his head only made it worse. So he closed his eyes again. Besides a zooming sound and the annoying ringing noise in his ears, it was quiet.

He felt sick and weak. And when he wanted to open his eyes again, Dean felt that it was far more difficult than before. With some effort het stretched his numbly legs, suddenly aware of the cold air around him he started shivering.

It wasn't long before he felt his stomach pounding angry at him. Dean tried to shift himself on the thin matrass but he only made it worse. Pain shots were making an unbearable rhythm that kept him from breathing normally.

With shallow breaths he inwardly told himself to lie still.

At first he didn't know what had happened to him. His mind was empty and it felt like his head was stuffed with cotton balls. For a long moment he stared at the sealing. Watching the flickering light through the protecting star. When his pain finally subsided he slowly reached down to his stomach and felt the thick bandage on his belly. He relaxed a little at the idea that he was already patched up and didn't have to deal with the stitching part anymore. He was safe. They already had taken care of him. A small smile grew on his cracked lips and his eyes automatically started to close once again.

After another long moment he startled awake again. His head cleared up a little and tried to come up from the flat mattress to look around. _Where was he again? And where was his brother?_

"S'mmy?" he croaked out. Shocked at his own voice he worked his sore throat. "Thirsty," he muttered to himself and looked around. At that movement the world started to tilted.

Completely dazed he waited until everything stood still, a front of his eyes. Then he saw that he was the panic room. He was at Bobby's. His guts kind of told him that earlier, by the smell of molt and iron. He knew the smell. It was strange to think that this familiar, yet disgusting, smell made him feel like home.

But everything else was a big blur. Dean slowly peered around for any traces that could tell him anything. Everywhere he looked he saw plastic wrappings from the all known bandage rolls. Some red-stained wool lied on the wooden desk. He must have been very seriously injured by the looks of it. It was a mess. He could still smell the blood. "God…" Dean muttered in disgust. That probably was why his body felt so numb. He must have lost some serious amounts of blood.

With a heavy sight he let his head fall to his chest in exhaustion. Then he finally saw his bare skin. On the left side of the bed he saw a pile of dirty clothes scattered on the ground that Dean had worn a day ago. Now he wore only a boxer and white socks. "Well, that explains the cold." His eyes shortly fell on to the bandage on his calf. He wiggles his toes to see if some nerves were damaged. But it only hurts a little while watching his sock move. He shifted his leg a little to see more of the bandaged wound trying to remember where it came from, but then his stomach pain worsened. His watery glance shot to the right and he found another clue.

Beside him on the right side of the bed, there stood a bucket on the floor. Something felt uncomfortable. Then a sour flavor hit his nostrils. It smelled strange. He smelled vomit. The bucket beside him was wet, as if he had just been rinsed clean. Dean bit his lip thinking about to vomit again. But he felt okay. There was another long silence. He let his mind work through the motions.

Then it hit him!

He was stabbed, back at the Diner. _Everything else was a blur_. He knew that, for sure. But… his only concern went to his younger brother. He remembered him flying past him. He could be injured. Where was he? Probably upstairs, reading with Bobby in his study. Presumably waiting for him to wake up. So he took a deep and yet painful breath. His arms automatically grasped at his stomach wound. With a fast move he swung his legs over the matrass. But when he wanted to stand up, the movement reminded him painfully about his stab wound. Groaning in pain and misery Dean sat down. It took a while before he had everything under control again.

He let himself sit back, realizing he couldn't walk yet. So he started to shout.

"Sam? Sam!" he tried. Now he saw the closed door of the panic room, something began to come back in his memory. That demon. She had infected him. Frowning in disgust he reached for his abdomen and looked again at the door. "Sammy! Are you there? Bobby? Hey!" he shouted again. He heard a door open.

Footsteps walked down the stairs.

"Dean! Everything okay in there? Wait ... I'm coming with you." Sam looked through the small window above the closed door. Dean immediately saw Sam's blue swollen eye. In his hand he carried an icepack, but when he went to his big brother the icepack was gone.

"You look a lot better, man." Sam laughed relieved. He sat down next to Dean on the bed and padded on his knee.

Dean was clearly obsessed about his blue eye. His mouth fell open. "What happened to you?"

Sam grinned embarrassing. "That Erm... That's not important, Dean. How are you, man? You were out cold for quite a while. Hungry?" At the last word Dean shook his head. There was a comfortable silence. The hand on his leg felt soothing. It was strange to feel like he missed his younger brother like that.

"It must have been quite a trip," Dean muttered softly.

"Yup. It sure was."

Dean closed his eyes in exhaustion and hunched his shoulders foreword by the sudden weakness. One hand was still on his stomach.

"You were raving a lot of crap. And you were not exactly careful with sharing your stomach contents, for the last few hours." Dean closed his eyes to tune out Sam's tone of amusement.

"Yeah. Keep talking, Sam. Tell me all about that right now and I will give you another one," Dean said softly, glancing at his swollen eye. He just knew he did that to him. Sam laughed at that. He was just happy to see his big brother so bright and awake again. But Dean's face started to show his weakness and when his big brother yawned out loud he squeezed is knee a little.

"It's okay, Dean. You were pretty sick. Bobby has done the most for you. After you kinda knocked me down and called me a garlic-bitch. Whatever that meant." Dean fluttered his eyes at that. He remembered that one!

Ashamed Dean shifted on the matrass.

"Sorry, Sammy."

Sam shook his head. "That's okay, Dean. I'm glad you're back to normal. "

Dean nodded. His gaze wandered to his hand that still rested on his bandaged stomach.

Suddenly Sam pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed with relief. "You don't have a fever. Finally." Dean growled at the eager hand of Sam and hit him away in annoyance.

"Get lost. I'm almost naked."

Sam sighed in relieve, again.

"Get me some clothes. I am feeling cold." Dean looked at his younger brother and saw his smile on his face.

"What are you smiling at, Cyclops? Want me to spell it for ya?"

Sam just laughed.

"Welcome back, Dean."

* * *

**End**


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